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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249820">Scars of War</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirabaros/pseuds/Kirabaros'>Kirabaros</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Call of Duty Modern Warfare One Shots [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Call of Duty (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Reflection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:27:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,875</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249820</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirabaros/pseuds/Kirabaros</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Price killed Makarov, but it came at a great cost. From the Scars of Duty verse, Price reflects on everything as he goes to pick up the person he and Yuri had been searching for since she was taken: Nicolette "Nico" Walker.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Call of Duty Modern Warfare One Shots [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1028685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Scars of War</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This scene is referenced in Part V Tides of War.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The quiet was deafening as it was haunted by the eerie creaking of rope straining under a weight. There was an occasional tinkle of glass as remnants flickered downward from the roof. The room was rather nice except for the swinging shadow that darkened its floor.</p><p>Captain John Price sat where he had fallen and took another puff of his cigar. He looked at the swinging body as the smoke lazily rose up as he breathed in the sweet smell. It was a bittersweet smell as he stared at the body. It was a fight that saw many fall and left scars on those that were left.</p><p>Thinking that, Price slowly rose to his feet, feeling every bit of his age as he worked out the soreness from the fall. He looked upwards at the roof he had just fallen through. He could see the night sky up as he took another puff of his cigar. Sighing, he started walking towards the stairs and began the climb back up. There was unfinished business on that roof.</p><p>It felt like running the 5K in Selection by the time he made it back onto the roof. The fires from the damage from gunfire and the crashed helicopter were still burning and he could smell the oil and burnt wood as he scoured the rooftop. Taking a final puff, he took the cigar out of his mouth. He looked at it before tossing it aside and made his way to were his comrade Yuri had fallen.</p><p>Yuri had proven himself in the end. Or rather, he had always proven himself. While Price kept him on a short leash after what happened… when Soap died… Yuri had always been loyal. Not only to Nikolai, but to her. He protected her, fought to find her, and saved her from Makarov. Price stared at Yuri, lying on the ground. The man looked peaceful as his gaze drifted down to the one that they were determined to rescue.</p><p>Nicolette, Nico, was lying on the ground, her head resting on Yuri’s chest. She was covered in scrapes and bruises from the fight. She was a fighter and had fought this battle in her own way. Price knew that. He knew that, but looking down at her, he felt that she had been broken by it. He knew her steps had been dogged by a long shadow over five years long. A shadow that tested her feelings and soul. The divide between spooks and soldiers was a thin one. In the end, they all ended up in the same boat.</p><p>Price kneeled and gently touched her shoulder, “Nico?”</p><p>She didn’t move, but that didn’t mean she didn’t hear him. Price realized she might still be on survival mode as he moved a stray lock of hair and called her name again. He shook her shoulder, “Nico?”</p><p>The sirens could be heard in the distance. Price knew he didn’t have much time to get her out of there. He gripped her arm and pulled her up and held her by her upper arms. “Nico?”</p><p>Her reaction was not unexpected, but it was inconvenient as she started flailing. She screamed at him to let her go. She screamed in pain when she hit her arm on him. The last thing Price wanted to do was to hurt her even more, but he needed her attention. He shook her hard, forcing her to look at him, “Nico, snap out of it. It’s me. It’s Price!”</p><p>The hazel eyes that looked at him were dulled from this war. The spark that caught his attention when he first met her was not there. The world was written on her face as she stared blankly at him. The dullness abated a little when she recognized him. Not all was lost.</p><p>Price was a man and a soldier. It was sort of the rule that men didn’t cry. So it was lost upon him when the recognition was clear in her eyes and she burst into tears and began to sob. He just looked at her as she choked and sobbed as she moved to cradle her right arm. Her breaths came in hiccups.</p><p>Moving like he was defusing a bomb, Price pulled her into his chest and gentle embraced her. He blinked when she sobbed into his shoulder much like a child would wanting comfort. He gingerly patted her back as the words graveled out of his mouth, “It’s all right, Nico. It’s over.”</p><p>It was more likely a lie, but also the truth. For her, the five years of being chased were over. Everything else… Price was a soldier. He had been for most of his adult life. He knew better than most that there was always something else in the world to worry about, another battle to plan… another war to fight. He signed up for that. He couldn’t deny that she knew that too. Yet, this was a victory. It was one that came at a heavy cost, but a victory.</p><p>Price relaxed as that truth hit and looked down at her as she finished her tears. She had gripped his shirt and held on tight as if to reaffirm that victory was there. He looked at Yuri lying there and back at her. When she finished her tears, he prompted, “Come on. The sirens are getting closer. We are leaving.”</p><p>He pulled her to her feet and started walking with her towards the stairs. He couldn’t help but think back to an earlier conversation when she talked about being the one that walked away from carnage. He didn’t quite understand where she was coming from then. Now… he could see why she considered it a curse. He had lost people that meant a lot to him too. He had gone into the lion’s den and was the only one to emerge alive from the encounter. That kind of thing wore on the soul. It weighed on his at it did hers as he guided her down the stairs.</p><p>“It’s over,” she was muttering. “And yet… it’s a curse.”</p><p>Price looked down at her. She was cradling her right. He suspected that it was broken. She also looked pale and a little thin. Too thin and it looked like a strong gale would knock her over. He studied her as she made her way down, very subdued. It was nothing like how he knew her to be.</p><p>“A curse. So many lost,” she murmured as she leaned against him.</p><p>Price was certain he heard her sniff. He knew she would know that Soap didn’t make it. If he had, Soap would have been the first one leading the charge. She wasn’t stupid. She knew and he felt it when she stumbled like her legs gave out.</p><p>He caught her and without a second thought, he swung her up and started carrying her down the stairs. He didn’t say anything. There was no need to as she huddled and leaned into his chest. She didn’t weigh much and again he marveled how a slip of a woman was able to yank to his feet a full grown man wearing fifty pounds of gear.</p><p>It struck Price as he reached the bottom. It hit hard at how fragile life really was; how fragile she was. His throat convulsed at the thought that they all took her for granted; that she would weather through the storm. In the end, she was just one person. <em>He</em> was just one person, and yet he felt guilty and alone because he lost good friends and comrades.</p><p>He had never thought about it much especially when he was in the gulag. He had justified it as necessary so that the team would survive. It was war then. Losses were expected. Bad things happened and you pushed it aside and kept going. He only faltered when Soap died. While Soap was another soldier, he was also a protégé, someone he had groomed in this line of work. It was like a parent losing a child. Still, he pushed forward because someone else needed him. Nico needed him; needed him to fix this and find her.</p><p>It was quiet on the bottom floor even with the sirens blaring in the distance and getting closer. The only thing that could be heard was the tinkling of class and the crunch from his boots. There was an occasional spark and hints of flames, but it was quiet. And it was loud to Price’s ears as he made his way to the exit.</p><p>“Free but not over. It will never be over.”</p><p>Price didn’t say anything to Nico’s murmuring. He swallowed as he listened to that happy sadness that tinged her voice. It held the certainty that while she was free of a madmen, her job wasn’t over. It was a sad reality for career soldiers, people like him. He was the kind that would prefer that if he died, he’d go out in a firefight; go out with his boots on. That was important and the way for him. It was all he saw even with everything that had happened. For her… more of the same. More of doing the things that had soldiers scowl at her kind. Yet they were of the same cloth. The same goals. The methods were just different. Until you had to do what it took to win.</p><p>Price continued walking through the ground floor. It felt like it went on forever. He just didn’t notice it when he and Yuri charged in. They were focused on killing Makarov and getting Nico back. Now that the adrenaline had died down, he was feeling everything; he was allowing himself to feel. It was only as much as he could allow as he carried Nico in his arms.</p><p>The sirens were close. Too close. There was nothing Price could do. It was best to stride forward. Pick up and move forward. He took a breath as he adjusted his grip on Nico and continued to walk towards the doors. He could make out the flashing lights but not much else. The damage to the place gave a lasting impression to whoever was out there.</p><p>“Stick together. No matter what.”</p><p>Price paused and looked down at Nico. She was looking up at him. There was a hint of that defiance in her eyes. That defiance kept her going no matter what was thrown at them. One last fight was in her. He nodded and looked forward just as several armed men in tactical gear came in through the building in standard formation.</p><p>Price could feel Nico straighten slightly in her arms. She was going to fight if it came to that. He could too. He wasn’t alone. She was still there. They would fight until the very end as always. It showed in his posture as he came to a full stopped and eyed the men that were looking for possible threats. This war may be over, but the fight wasn’t. He stared at it in the face as one of them signaled the others to move and came up to him. He had that look as he removed his mask and addressed him, “Captain Price?”</p>
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